


The Fish Without the Sea

by DaibhidC



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bit of real world reference, Gen, Major Spoilers, post-Shepherd's Crown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8066647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaibhidC/pseuds/DaibhidC
Summary: It's nearly time for the first Witch Trials since ... well, since.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Major spoiler for The Shepherd's Crown, although I think everyone knows by now, don't they?
> 
> The title, incidentally, is vaguely based on "The Sea and Little Fishes", which Sir Terry explained somewhere was a metaphor

The meeting took place at Gra… at Geoffrey’s cottage. It hadn’t exactly been arranged, several witches had simply noticed the date and realised it was time to have a meeting. Geoffrey had made a large pot of tea, and the witches drank it in silence waiting to see who would be the first to raise the topic.

“Witch Trials in a couple of weeks,” said Nanny Ogg eventually. The others all nodded.

“Is it?” asked Tiffany, “Without…” she trailed off.

“The Witch Trials have been happening reg’lar every summer since time immoral,” said Nanny, “They were around before Esme, and she’d ‘spect ‘em to be around afterwards.”

“Precisely,” said Mrs Earwig, “It’s an ancient tradition, and many witches have lived and died without interrupting it.”

“Um, yes,” said Petulia, “But, um, she was…”

“She was Granny Weatherwax,” said Old Mother Blackcap firmly.

The other witches nodded again, and silence once more descended.

“Be that as it may,” said Mrs Earwig, “the Witch Trials are bigger than one witch. In fact, I’d have thought everyone would be keen to enter them this year, when we all have a chance of winning for once!”

Almost anyone else would have sensed the sudden chill in the room, but if elves couldn’t get through Letice Earwig’s self-certainty, a mere intake of breath by half a dozen witches stood no chance. Several of them looked on the point of saying something cuttingly polite, or in Gytha Ogg’s case, unmistakably rude.

“Perhaps,” Geoffrey suggested, quietly, “this year’s Witch Trials should be dedicated to Mistress Weatherwax in some way?”

“Now that’s a good idea, young man,” agreed Miss Tick, “Some kind of ceremony or something in her honour when the Trials begin.”

“Esme was never big on ceremonies,” said Nanny, “But somethin’ in her honour, yeah, she’d have been keen on that.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Mrs Earwig decisively, “The Trials will take place as usual, and I’ll leave the details of Miss Weatherwax’s memorial to Mrs Ogg. Thank you for attending, everyone.” And she nodded and left.

With the meeting apparently adjourned, although no-one could recall agreeing that Mrs Earwig was chairing it, the other witches finished their tea, said goodbye to Geoffrey and left themselves. As they did Miss Tick, a born teacher, couldn’t resist turning to Nanny, “I’m sorry Mrs Ogg, but when you said ‘time immoral’ earlier, I believe you meant ‘time immemorial’.”

Nanny grinned, “Ah, you ain’t heard some o’ the stories about the old Witch Trials…”

* * * 

Two weeks later, the Witch Trials took place.

And at the side of the stage, where everyone could see it and it could, were it able to do so, observe everything, was a chair on which rested a somewhat battered, hand-made, black pointed hat.


End file.
